


Betrayed

by bitterstolenrelic



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: And I'm sorry for that, And then it morphed into this monster, M/M, This was supposed to be a drabble, Whoops decided on another chapter after sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterstolenrelic/pseuds/bitterstolenrelic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been running for weeks, and Tony is tired. He doesn't want to run anymore. He hates himself for it, but only one thing is ever going to make it stop: Loki's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princeoffrost](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=princeoffrost).



> Oh lord. This was supposed to be a tiny ficlet, and it morphed into this thing. 
> 
> Supposed to be for princeoffrost on tumblr. 
> 
> I play Tony, she plays Loki, and in our ongoing RP, they've faked Loki's death to hide him from Asgard and SHIELD. We're mutually trying to shatter each other's feelings now.

Getting this far into his little scheme was more difficult than he had planned. The only thing that made it any easier was the fact that Loki wasn't the only talented liar. More than once, he'd thought the plan was going to fail, but it somehow had managed to survive. He'd kept the god of mischief close, but he realized early that he was going to have to steel himself to avoid actually falling for him. That was the hardest part.

Loki was a heavy sleeper, especially when he was trying to recover his magic, and the god barely shifted when Tony got out of bed in the middle of the night. They had been running, they had been trying to stay away, and it was tiring on them both. They had somehow managed to make it back to his home, and Tony knew what he had to do.

Casting one last glance back to the bed, he sighed and headed down to his workshop. There was a vault there that contained something... something he'd sworn to get rid of. He set it on the counter by the door, retrieving one of the gauntlets for his armor. He was going to need that much, at least. He had been preparing for this since the night they finally came home.

He poured himself a glass of scotch, relishing in the feeling of the low ball glass in his hand. There was a pair of handcuffs in one of the cabinets as well, the reminder of a tryst long since past, and he decided he might want to grab those as well. He folded them together and put them in his pocket, grabbing his last treasure and his scotch and heading back upstairs. 

He finished half of the low ball glass before he made it to his room again, setting it quietly on the dresser before climbing back onto the bed. Loki was still asleep, his arms together in front of him. The god looked peaceful, but he looked exhausted. Tony moved carefully and slowly at first, opening the handcuffs and setting them on the bed. The other thing in his hands, well...

Loki's muzzle was cold in his hands, like the god of mischief sometimes was when his magic ran low. He stared at it for a long moment. He couldn't believe how easy it had been to keep the thing... Loki hadn't even wanted to touch it when Tony allegedly got rid of it. He sighed softly. The handcuffs were a normal temperature, thanks to their brief contact with Tony's skin, and he slipped them around the god's wrists slowly. When Loki barely moved when they were snapped on, he almost felt guilty about the simplicity.

Tony picked the muzzle up, examining its latch. He needed to make sure he knew how to get it on, or it wouldn't be easy to get on. He'd taken it off before, only once, but it was enough. He remembered the latch. He put his hand on Loki's cheek and the god shifted in his sleep. Loki sat up ever so slightly, shifting to put his head in his lover's lap. Tony moved, the muzzle clinking against the metal of his gauntlet.

As Loki's head descended to rest on Tony's leg, he moved the muzzle and quickly snapped it around Loki's head. Green eyes snapped open immediately, and any rebellion was quickly stopped when his armored hand went to the side of the god's head. Loki could feel the metal, and feel the energy flowing through it. His eyes still held the question /Why?/

Tony sighed, brushing through dark hair with the gauntlet-covered hand. "You brought this on yourself, Loki... You know what you did, don't look at me like that!" he growled, getting up from the bed. Loki moved to follow, or to try to physically get Tony's attention, to try to fix whatever he'd done. Bright green eyes were wide as they followed Tony. He wanted answers, he wanted to know what was happening. He didn't know just how deep the betrayal had gone. 

"In the morning... Thor is supposed to come for your body. I told them you'd be dead. After all of my protesting, I ended up blaming you. I told them you controlled me. They believed it so easily. Even before you decided to be completely evil, was mind control something you used often? Don't bother answering that." A voice in his head told him no, don't you dare, just pin him down, ravish him and beg for his forgiveness. Gods knew how much he wanted to listen to that voice... He stood up straight at the end of the bed, pacing along the width of it, keeping his eyes on the god of mischief all the time.

Loki growled slightly, tugging at his handcuffs. He was on his knees on the edge of the bed. Tony had paced back and forth a few times, finishing the scotch in his glass. Thanks to the bound god on his bed - the god who was no stronger than a human at the moment - he had been sober for a while. Unfortunately, he hated who he was when he was sober. He sighed, setting the glass down again. He leaned back against the dresser, dark eyes still fixed on Loki. The rage slowly faded from his face, leaving behind traces of fear, denial, and betrayal. There was a hint of hatred, but it was something that Tony wasn't even sure he was seeing. The alcohol in his system was giving him a little bit of a buzz, making this whole situation so much less painful.

"You know, I tried to compose this whole thing in my head... but it just didn't work out. I wanted to lie to you, or something. But, sadly, the truth seems better." He started to examine his gauntlet, keeping Loki in the corner of his eye. The god didn't like the repulsor blasts with his powers intact. He wasn't going to try anything when his strength was inhibited. "Look, here's the thing. I lied to you. Which is funny, in retrospect, that I managed to lie to the Liesmith, so well, for long enough to make it matter. Really though? I can't believe you fell for that. Who could ever love a monster like you?"

The pain in Loki's eyes would've hurt him so much worse if he didn't have the scotch in his system. He had spent so much time trying to convince Loki that he wasn't a monster... But it worked with the plan. He was a murderer, he killed with no remorse... if that wasn't bad enough, he was an alien. An alien who could turn blue. He was a monster. Tony pushed himself up to stand straight, walking up to the god. Slowly and carefully, he lifted his armored hand and put it on Loki's head, noticing and hating the flinch that came from him. The hand moved down, first cupping his cheek, then down to under his jaw, then slipping over his heart and staying there. 

"I'm not sorry for this. You're a monster and this is what you deserve." There was the slightest of shakes to his voice when he spoke. He leaned forward and put one last kiss to Loki's forehead, sighing as he pulled away. He didn't remember where, but he'd heard that a kiss to someone's forehead meant you wanted to spend your life with that person. The irony wasn't lost on Tony as the repulsor charged up and blasted straight through Loki's heart. 

He shook as he went back to the dresser, picking up his glass. He went to the closest bottle of scotch, bringing the entire decanter with him as he headed back to his room. It was only after three more glasses that he noticed a tear had frozen in the corner of Loki's still-open eyes.

It didn't make a difference to him anymore that he had been given clear permission to kill Loki this time. It had almost been an order, the way it had been handed down.  
It hurt.

It hurt so badly he almost wanted to tear his reactor out and crush it.

But he couldn't.

He had lied.

He told Fury and Thor that he didn't have feelings for Loki. He just was experiencing a sort of Stockholm Syndrome. He had lied, he lied so well to them that he almost believed it himself. The only reason Thor had agreed to this was because he didn't want to see his beloved brother suffer any more than he already had at the hands of Asgard.

Tony took off his gauntlet, leaning back against the wall. He set the armor down next to the glass, starting to drink straight from the decanter, trying to tell himself that this would still somehow be okay.

He knew it wouldn't be.

The only person he'd ever really loved - the only one willing to put up with his bouts of suicidal activity, the only person who didn't get hurt, the only one who hadn't really tried to hurt him - was laying dead, with a hole through his heart, on Tony's bed.

He wouldn't be alright.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor might've known what Tony was going to do, but that didn't make him any less angry to see his brother's body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently decided after a full night's sleep that this needed a second chapter. I don't know why. But I guess it did. I'm soooo sorry in advance. 
> 
> I guess it's staying up though.
> 
> Also, enjoy Hel and Thor!

Tony didn't sleep - how could he when Loki was dead in his bed? Instead, he was determined to finish off most of his bottle of scotch. He had about the equivalent of a single drink left when the sun rose. He watched it from his couch.

Not ten minutes later, there was a familiar rumble of thunder. It seemed to be moving faster than usual, intent on getting to its destination, and Tony winced when he thought he could actually hear the driveway cracking. He didn't get up. There was no point in it. Thor would come in, take his brother's body, and leave.

He was right to a point. Thor came in, up the workshop's stairs. JARVIS had been unusually quiet since the night before. Tony suspected the AI didn't like what he'd done, but the silent treatment from a machine was the last thing on his mind. He looked over his shoulder to see the thunderer pause, unsure of which way exactly he was supposed to be going. Tony pointed down the hall and managed to slur out "Second door on the right." Thor nodded, jaw set, and headed that direction.

Tony was definitely not expecting the cry of anguish and rage from the bedroom, and he scrambled to his feet. Loki was actually dead, right? It couldn't be that? Tony got up from the couch, panicking a little. If Loki was alive, he was certain that he was about to be dead.

Thor came back into the room, nearly in silence. Tony could see the rage actually boiling over in his eyes. "What did you do to my brother, Man of Iron," the low voice rumbled out, trying to maintain some sense of calm. He clutched Mjolnir in his hand like he was relying on its weight to keep him grounded. Tony's eyes were somewhat glazed as he looked to the side, trying to remember... He had blacked out for a while in the middle of the night. The sobriety imposed upon him by his 'roommate' had done a toll on his system...

He barely remembered anything but what he'd actually done. He and Loki had... 'celebrated' their return home, resulting in both of them getting a little scratched and bruised, but nothing that wouldn't heal. Then... well, he wished he could forget, but he couldn't. He was looking away, trying to remember after that, and he didn't even notice how much closer Thor actually got to him. The god of thunder was moving quietly, his rage making him even more frightening, in Tony's opinion.

"Shall I tell you what it looked like, Stark?" Thor growled, shifting the hammer in his hand. "It looks like you tricked him, muzzled him, and blasted his heart out of his body. I understand you were supposed to kill him, but I thought you better than that much, at least. I did not expect to see him also bruised and bloody, and the fact that I can... gods, it's disgusting, and I dare not even elaborate beyond that!” The thunderer’s voice got louder quickly, until he was nearly shouting in Tony’s face. Tony took a few quick steps back, nearly stumbling to the floor. Thor raised his hammer and lightning struck outside, and Tony’s memory came racing back.

_He had killed Loki. He had started drinking heavily. He had cried. He drank more. He blacked out._

_He had realized what he had done. In the last few days of the chase, he’d convinced himself that he really didn’t love Loki, and that the whole thing had been a ruse. He had called Fury, gotten his order, and followed it. The realization of his actions hit him like the Stark Tower falling on him, and he had scrambled back to the bed. He unclasped the muzzle, but left it in contact with Loki’s skin, just in case he woke up. He knew the god was dead, but he was hopeful. He stroked the pale cheek lightly, already cool skin doing nothing but starting to get colder. He sat there with tears in his eyes for a moment, touching him gently and trying to wake him up. He pointedly avoided the gaping chest wound._

_After gentleness hadn’t worked, he had almost gotten angry. He was still shaking with silent sobs, cursing each time he drew his fist back. He must’ve punched Loki’s corpse a dozen times, between his jaw and his shoulders, and he didn’t hold back. He bruised the god, and nothing healed. Tony watched, he watched so carefully, waiting for the wounds to heal, but nothing happened._

_In his drunken stupor, he had one last thought… Loki was on his back, and Tony had climbed on top of him when he made his way to the bed. In one last attempt, he rocked his hips against his lover’s, watching and desperately hoping for some movement. Of course, there was none. He was too drunk to keep the tears back, and he doubled over, weakly banging his fists against the god’s shoulders, ignoring the amount of blood he was spraying everywhere. He sobbed, quietly, on Loki’s chest, swearing that he would take it back if he could and cursing out loud and trying to understand why he’d done this._

He snapped back to reality with the sound of another crack of lightning. Dark eyes stared up at Thor, full of fear and panic, and for a split second he wondered if that was how Loki had felt – 

\- But that stopped quickly when the thunder god swung Mjolnir, easily shattering Tony’s skull without any protection from his armor. 

~~~~~~~~

He woke up what felt like hours later, groaning and rubbing the side of his head. He could feel dried blood, but the wound seemed to be healed. He looked around, panicking for a moment when he realized he was completely in the dark. 

“Relax, Anthony Stark. You are safe, for now,” a soft but powerful female voice said. He could tell that she wasn’t far away, but that didn’t make him any calmer.

“Who are you? Where am I?” he asked, about as calmly as he could manage. He turned one direction, where he thought the voice had come from, but as soon as she spoke again, he could tell the woman had moved.

“My, my, I’m not impressed… my father spoke so highly of you. Well, he’s yet to say anything good about you today, but one can hardly blame him,” she said among peals of laughter. Tony froze, and his brain immediately kicked into gear, establishing where he was.

“You’re… you’re Hel, aren’t you? That means I’m dead then?” he asked, looking around. Slowly, the landscape was starting to come into focus, and he was mildly horrified. He had started to picture hell something like this, but seeing it in reality was terrifying. 

The woman seemed to be floating, and he wouldn’t doubt it if she was, and she circled around him once before settling in front of him. “Very astute observation, Anthony Stark. You know why you are here then?” she asked. Her eyes were covered by something that looked like a mask, but Tony almost couldn’t bring himself to look where her eyes were. He was almost afraid.

He stopped to think for a moment, rubbing the side of his still-sore head. “I… Thor smashed my brains in… after I… Oh, gods, Loki, what have I done?” he mumbled quietly, eyes widening with every word. He looked around the landscape again, but he didn’t see the Trickster anywhere. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when Hel spoke again. 

“My father has moved to another realm. I’ll not tell you which. You haven’t earned it. For your crimes, you will spend time – possibly eternity – in Niflheim. It is the realm of the dishonored dead. You will suffer, and hopefully you will atone for your mistakes.” Tony moved to speak and she raised a hand. “Silence. This is not a debate, nor is it a trial. It is a sentence. There is nothing you can do. Do you deny that you murdered Loki Laufeyson in cold blood?”

“…I can’t deny it! But I didn’t want to! Just… I just want to see him, just once, and I’ll take my punishment quietly!” Tony insisted loudly. He desperately wanted to apologize… not that Loki would accept it, but he wanted the words to be heard.

“He has moved to another realm. Should you be fortunate enough to get out of Niflheim, then perhaps you might get to speak with him,” she said, a low growl to her voice. Tony thought about arguing, but Hel was much like her realm. Terrifying and threatening.

He didn’t speak again, but he nodded, and Hel transported him to Niflheim without a second thought. She drifted back to her throne, ascending its steps. Behind it sat the soul of Loki. His eyes were brimming with tears. He barely whispered three words before consigning himself to wait for Tony in silence.

_“I forgive you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Please, no one hate me for this. My Tonymuse is curled up in the corner and refuses to talk to me.


End file.
